Mass Effect: Genesis
by Sterd
Summary: February 23, 2178. Second Lieutenant Stephan Ogden has just completed N7 training on Arcturus Station, ready to serve his species however he can. But is he prepared for the challenges and decisions ahead?
1. Prologue

A beam of light streaked itself across the face of Stephan Ogden, disturbing a rather good dream in his opinion. Stephan was never a morning person, and this little wake up was as subtle to him as the school's fire alarms. He rolled away from his window, struggling to grasp the last straws of the previous nights rest. It's my birthday, he thought, I deserve a few more minute sleep.

Minutes which seemed like hours passed, until Stephan lurched upright in his bed. Today is my birthday, which means… "Dad's coming home," The words were but a murmur, barely audible to even himself. He threw off the blanket covering him, this revelation shutting out any ideas of further slumber. Dad was going to be there at three o'clock that Saturday afternoon, and since shore leave was always a rare occasion, he had to be presentable.

Picking up a pair of ragged-looking jeans from the floor, he energetically bounded across his rather small room to the door. Entering the hallway, he used his momentum to spring upon the handrail leading to the lower half of the apartment. His father may be a captain, but Alliance wages in the military weren't always so generous. Besides, his mother had insisted upon living "solely on their needs" as she would put it. Sliding down the rail, he came to a stop landing in the kitchen in front of a startled middle aged woman with dark brown hair.

"Stephan Ogden, what the hell are you doing?" Marie Ogden said after the initial shock had faded away, her emerald eyes ablaze with fury. "You're going to break your neck one of these days, young man, and I won't be sobbing at your funeral."

"Relax Mom," came her son's reply, clearly not taking her scornful tone in its entire seriousness. "I'll be damned if all it'll take a set of stairs to do me in." He smiled slightly as he headed through the kitchen to another corridor. Marie's brow furrowed slightly.

"And what did I tell you about that language? If I hear it again I'll slap the piss outta you!" She yelled at him, her empty threat falling upon deaf ears as he pretended to be out of earshot. They both knew that she wouldn't do anything to him on his birthday, but it wouldn't do to push his luck. He decided it to be safer to censor himself a little more.

Samantha Ogden heard three sharp raps on the bathroom door. She had just gotten out of the shower a few minutes prior, and had been in the process of doing her hair when her twin brother shouted through the door.

"Get out Sam, I need to get ready." She smiled. This was going to be fun.

"Why don't you wait your turn? Or maybe I just might misplace my hairbrush for awhile?" she could feel her sibling's rising temper flow through the door, and couldn't help not suppressing a giggle.

"I'm really not in the mood right now, or maybe I'll get my precision laser out of my room and slice through the control panel?" It was his turn to smile as he heard her gasp in response.

"You… you can't do that!" she stammered, the shock and annoyance clear. "You'll, you'll break the panel or something, and Mom said you couldn't get that last month. She wouldn't buy it for you!"

"That didn't stop me from looking up some homemade schematics off the extranet for examples. I built it." Stephan stated matter-of-factly. He was proud of his technical proficiencies, a natural gift of his, even if it did make him come off as arrogant.

"What?" His sister gasped.

"You sound surprised?" he smirked, realizing that this was more than an argument, but rather a ploy his sister was using to buy time. But he was too amused to stop; he knew her responses were genuine in their entirety.

"You can't of, that's impossible!"

"Not really. Especially if you're best friend works at the local appliance store. It's pretty useful knowing what components and equipment that are defective, getting thrown out, or on sale are. Actually, I got the ezo from…" The door opened, cutting him off. His twin stepped out, her long, black hair flowing down her back, blonde streaks shining in the light. Glitter sparkled below her dazzling, light emerald eyes.

"I don't care," she smiled, walking slightly toward the kitchen before adding, "You're gonna blow yourself up one of these days, y'know?" Stephan smiled.

"Yea, I know."

After a quick shower, Stephan himself off, his black hair falling down to its original shaggy state after a few minutes. A young boy with dark emerald eyes looked back at him through the mirror as he applied cleaning paste to his toothbrush. Unlike everyone else in his family, his lacked the sparkle or shine accustomed to the Ogden family. He placed the brush in his mouth as he put on his worn, ragged pants. A hole was developing in its right knee, and the ankles were frayed in places. Stephan rushed to the kitchen for a quick bite before returning to his room for a shirt. It was noon, which meant he had three hours.

Stephan's room wasn't as homely as his parent's or sister's, but it served his purposes. Mounted on the walls were certain models of Alliance and alien cruisers, dreadnoughts, frigates, fighters, and carriers, all of them built by him over the years. A work bench was bolted into the far corner, put up by him and his father four years ago. He walked over to the bench, and picked up a small device before proceeding to his closet.

I'd better make sure this stays in a safe place for awhile, he thought, as he placed the device in his pocket. Sam probably won't keep her mouth shut. After wresting on a t-shirt with the logo _I Love NY_ on it, his mother called for him to go to the living room.

"Kids," his mother started, the small hint of disappointment suppressed from her voice. "You're father isn't going to be able to come. His shore leave permission has been revoked, and he is being transferred to reinforce the Attican Traverse." Stephan's heart fell, devastated by this development. It had been a year and a half since he last saw his father.

"But," his mother continued. "He does have permission to chat with us for today." This didn't help the twin's disposition at all, though their mother tried. Marie rustled around behind the couch, pulling out two boxes, one wrapped with blue paper, the other pink. She briefly lit fourteen candles on the cake Stephan had overlooked on the coffee table in front of them. It read "Happy Fifteenth Birthday! August 17, 2154" on the front of it.

"What's in them?" Samantha asked.

"Open them and find out." was their mother's only response.

The twins ripped the paper off of the boxes. Stephan's eyes lit up, as much as they could for their rather dark hue, as he realized the contents.

"An Aldrin Labs Bluewire omni-tool!" he yelled in surprise. Marie smiled.

"Yes, your father and I thought it was time you two deserved omni-tools of your own, instead of borrowing school lend outs."

"Hey," Samantha complained. "Mine's not a name brand!"

"Honey," her mother comforted. "We thought that Stephan would like one from the manufacturers that supplied your father and the Alliance. Besides, he'll use his more than you will." Samantha grumbled. Stephan took out two plastic molds from the package, each with clear pads inside. One had a large pad, which he placed on his left palm. It spread a warm sensation up his arm as it linked with his nervous systems. He placed the others on his fingertips, and they melded the same way. A request for a multi-way chat immediately popped up on his omni-tool. He smiled.

"Commanding Officer on deck!" he announced as he accepted.

"XO Ogden is relieved," came Captain Charles Ogden's voice through the speakers. Stephan grinned even wider. "Happy Birthday son."


	2. Graduation

Stephan Ogden gazed out of the view port from one of the many cadet cabin rooms found on Arcturus Station. It was not a large room, but neither was it small. In it was just enough space for two sets of bunk beds, one on each side, two closets, two work desks, one at the end of each bunk, and the view port he was currently looking through.

Nighttime was always his favorite in the New York megatropolis, even though the lights mostly obscured the dark heavens. He used to imagine how his father felt, looking out at it, flying through it as a majestic eagle would grace the sky. The stars were light-years away, he knew, but he always felt that if he reached out far enough, he could grasp the elegant luminous orbs. He had seen pictured, vids, star charts, and holograms, but nothing had prepared him for his first glance at them almost four years prior, and still nothing could prepare him today.

He peered inward now, at the glass instead of through it. A young man, older now, yet still young, stared back at him, his dark emerald eyes intense, alive, full of energy and anticipation. His shaggy black hair was now cut and trimmed to the longest length military regs would allow. Light stubble, barely noticeable at first glance, was beginning to protrude from his face.

He was wearing his cadet officers' uniform, a navy blue suit with golden yellow embroidery, making sure to press it twice the day before for just this occasion. Today is the day, Stephan told himself, of new beginnings. The moment I will follow my fathers', and my fathers'-fathers', footsteps. The day I, soon-to-be Second Lieutenant Stephan Tyler Ogden, will catch the passing torch, carry it along to new horizons, and pass it on to the next defenders of the Alliance, of humanity.

His heart raced, and under his calm, professional manner was both fear and excitement. An excitement about the challenges he would face, and a fear of failing, of falling short, of said challenges. The electronic door behind him chimed and opened, breaking the cadet's intense meditation. He turned to face the best friend he could have ever met on Arcturus.

"Second Lieutenant Ogden." The trainees saluted each other, feigning the air of formal greetings found common in the military.

"Second Lieutenant Shepard." Stephan answered. The two grinned, and then began laughing, shattering the official tone of the room. Shepard was of roughly the same age, sporting the same garments with which he himself was. His hair was brown, but unlike his own, Shepard's was buzzed to the shortest possible length you could cut it. His eyes were blue, a pale blue mostly, the contour surrounding it converting into a darker hue. They were alive, not much unlike his own, but they were hungry. Stephan could tell a lot from just a glance into another's eyes. He could see a strong will, a will to do any and everything to get something done. But he could also see coldness, a calculating callousness. It was inhuman, unyielding, unrelenting, and merciless.

"Uh, are you okay?" John asked, concerned. Stephan realized that he had just been staring at his friend for the past minute.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just nerves, y'know, with graduation and all." He explained.

"I hear ya, all these years of training coming down like a ton of bricks today. You'd think this would go over better than live fire simulations, huh?"

"I don't think so," Stephan replied as he turned toward the window once more, placing his hand on the wall. "I think this is only the start of a long road ahead. Who knows what we'll find out there or what will happen. Hell, half the galaxy already has it out for us. We need to be careful, watch our backs." A wry smirk grew on his face. "Or am I just reading too much into it?"

"I don't know," John muttered. "But what I do know is if any of those bug eyed freaks give us trouble, I'm gonna blow their fuckin' heads off." His friend was always a little violent when it came to his humor, Stephan knew, so was he. They seemed the only two people who actually got each other. But sometimes he couldn't tell if his friend was serious or not. Stephan turned to look at John, the expression on his face grim. Both of them were from Earth's megatropolises, and both of them knew the darker sides of those representations of humanities growth and determination. But no matter how much they shared in common, there was always one difference between them. Somewhere along the road, Shepard had somehow lost his morals, his conscience, his mercy, and possibly his humanity.

Stephan's omni-tool beeped. He looked down at his left arm as the familiar orange hologram appeared across his forearm and hand.

"Hey, we'd better get going. They're gonna be starting soon." He spoke more to himself than to anybody else, John wasn't really listening to him at this point. He was locked within his own mind again.

* * *

><p>Samantha Ogden sat in the front row of a rather large chamber with her mother and father, impatiently waiting. She was wearing a plain black dress. On any other woman, it would have been average at best. But she wasn't average, far from it. When she was a kid, people used to tell her brother that he'd been screwed. She apparently got the looks, while he proved he got the brains. In the end it was her turn to feel screwed, though, a rather evil jest of irony. It was an honor and a privilege to be able to witness the N7 graduations, she knew, but she couldn't help but feel she had somehow failed, had thrown her life away. A silly notion, she was only twenty-two, she had plenty of time to figure herself out. But still, she couldn't shake this feeling of envious resentment.<p>

On the stage in front of her, a man approached a podium. He was obviously not happy to be there, as his facial expressions and body languages suggested. Fifteen cadets marched in a straight line, and with military discipline, turned in a fluid motion toward the crowd of under a hundred. Her brother was the seventh from the left, and was just as stiff as those next to him.

"Ahem," the man at the podium grumbled. "Thank you all for coming. We are here tonight to congratulate these recruits for not only completing the Arcturus Station's Officer Candidates School, but it's illustrious N7 Special Forces training program. These men and woman are the most proficient front line soldiers that humanity can possibly produce. And without further ado, to recognize the future defenders of the Alliance, Admiral Charles Ogden."

The crowd cheered as Charles stood from his seat and approached the stairs leading to the scaffold. He was wearing a blue uniform, not unlike the cadets', but his was more ornate, decorated with stripes and medals. Stephan felt a knot build up in his stomach. He had no idea that his father was going to present to them their graduate medals. He felt sweat roll down his cheek, attempting to stand straighter and sturdier than possible.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Charles began. "Thank you all for your attendance. I believe most of you are the families, or the extended families, of these young men and women, as am I. And I believe that most of you are proud of the time and effort of these men and women, as am I." Charles paused briefly, turning his head ever so slightly to look back at the cadets. Stephan felt his eyes meet his fathers for a moment, then he continued. "But let us not forget the sacrifices these men and women have made, and will continue to make so that we may live in happiness, prosperity, and security. Let us not forget the grueling years of unrelenting training and conditioning. Let us not forget the ones that have fallen before them, and those that are going to inevitably fall in the line of fire... But let us also look to the future, and to these defenders of the Alliance, of humanity."

He lifted up a stack of medals from the podium, then turned to face the recruits. Stephan's heart pounded as the Admiral worked his way down the line, handing out medals and shaking hands. Every cadet he approached gave a stiff salute, only to be put at ease by the forty-nine year old officer. He swiftly saluted his father.

"At ease," the Admiral said, smiling at his son. He gave him the bronze medallion, a recognition of the honor of completing his training. The knot in his stomach released in a sudden lurch.

* * *

><p>John Shepard left the room with a brisk, swift pace. He had no family, no reason to stay behind to mingle with the sappy, wishy-washy mothers and sisters, the self-satisfied fathers and brothers. Growing up on the streets of the Detroit megatropolis had instilled in him all he needed, strength, cunning, and the principles of survival. He had no time for love, and the universe had no room for mercy. He swore years ago that he would be relentless, do whatever it takes to get what he needed, or wanted. He waved his hand over the elevator controls, his omni-tool calling the nearest one. Seconds later the door opened with a whoosh, prompting him to step inside the empty cable box. For all their advancements, elevators were still slower than they should. It bothered him that if they could give a dreadnought the ability to travel through space at faster than light travel, then they could make an elevator that didn't move at a maximum half a meter per minute. He was about to shut the doors until he was stopped by a familiar face.<p>

"Hey John, wait up." Stephan called out, sprinting down the corridor in an attempt to catch the elevator. Shepard hesitated for a millisecond, then slowly activated the door open mechanism. Stephan barreled through the opening, barely stopping his momentum by throwing his hands up against the walls. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," was John's only reply. Stephan could sense something was wrong, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew John, he was his friend. He also knew that he didn't tolerate those who tried poking around at his feelings, so he contented himself to a quiet, slow ride down to the requisition office.

The doors opened at the destination, both men exited it's small confines. They continued down until they came to a stop in front of Victor Alexandrov, the short, burly requisition officer. He was the only person that either of them would order from, mostly because he was the only one who never asked questions about the things they requested.

"What do you two need today?" he asked, his voice thick with his eccentric ethnic dialect. He stared at them for about a minute before Stephan handed him his order form.

"Oh," he muttered. "That's a lot."

"We're done with training, we just need our supplies." Stephan told him.

"Alrighty then," Victor turned around and rummaged through the many crates behind the counter. "One Aldrin Labs N7 Onyx armor, medium weight, a Hahne-Kedar Lancer assault rifle and Kessler military pistol." As he checked through the list, he pulled out the equipment and placed them on the bench in front of them. "A set of Mark XIV grenades, tech proximity mines, and a Bluewi..."

"Uh, thanks, but I already have one." Stephan explained, cutting him off.

"Oh, alright then. And you sir?" he turned to John, who gave him an almost identical requisition sheet. After handing them both their supplies, the two walked over to the closest changing room. After suiting up in the dark grey armor, he collapsed and attached his pistol to the magnetic clasp on his left hip. He then collapsed the rifle, securing it to his back. He loaded the tech mines onto a launcher on his left wrist, and put the grenades into an ordinance pouch on his left leg. The heavy armor and weapons weighed him down only slightly, his body being strong enough to maneuver without it hindering him too much.

He waited until Shepard was done, then the two continued on toward the hangar bays. Ship postings were going to be announced soon, and it wouldn't be prudent if they were late. As they walked down to another elevator, Stephan couldn't help but notice his friends quiet behavior. He wanted to ask him his thoughts, but decided against it lest he upset him even more. As they entered, the announcer started, not paying attention to see if all recruits were there or not.

"Second Private Adams, Jakarta... First Private Bachmann, Einstein..."

"So, which ship do you want to be posted on?" Stephan asked, trying to jump start a conversation.

"Something that inspires fear, power, and respect. A dreadnought is desirable, but I'll settle for a cruiser. You?"

"Hmm," Stephan had to think about that. The question had popped up many times before, but this was the only time he had really thought about it seriously. "Maybe the New York, like my father. It'd be great if we were posted together though, right?"

"Yeah, too bad the odds are against us." John said, a small smirk forming on his face.

"Maybe so, there's always dumb luck," Stephan told him.

"Second Lieutenant Ogden, Marathon... Second Lieutenant Shepard, New York..." Stephan looked over at his friend, the essence of a grin still on his face. He laughed.

"Or not." John retorted. They both began cracking up.

"This is it then. Once we're on those shuttles there's no looking back." Stephan said with a sigh.

"I guess so... Try not to blow yourself up out there buddy." Shepard told him, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"Try not to get blown up yourself. Though you're probably the only person I know who would take a missile to the face and live."

"Hey, I'm tough, not invincible." The two locked eyes, helmets underneath their arms. They gave a long, firm handshake before each of them walked away from the other. And as he marched onward, Stephan wondered if they would ever see each other alive again.


	3. Prelude to Destiny: Part I

The hangar was in an unusual sense of disarray, but that was the furthest thing from the second lieutenant's mind at that moment as he scanned the congregated mass of military and engineering personnel. He didn't want to admit it, but he truly had no idea which transport he was supposed to board. Stephan stopped his senseless wanderings, trying to get some grip on the situation.

"Hey, get outta the way!" a female engineer ordered, shoving him. All he could do was comply. He didn't have the luxury of wasting his time with workers, after all he needed to catch a shuttle, and they needed to do their jobs.

"Um, ma'am," he said, racing to keep up with her. "Do you know which transport docks with the SSV Marathon?" The woman gave him a disgusted look.

"You're askin' the wrong person, and I don't have time for you." She quickly walked away, leaving the clueless marine behind in the busy port.

"Bitch," he mumbled under his breath. Stephan began to walk away before being stopped by a fellow soldier. He had brown hair and sharp eyes with a greyish, yellowish hue. He was wearing Hahne-Kedar light weight armor, a Scorpion model, Mark I. His face reflected the new norm of human looks, their distinctions and differences starting to slowly disappear to form a uniform appearance. His tanned skin hid his purely European decent almost completely to the point where Stephan wouldn't have been able to guess. His nose was medium sized, and had a slight crook as if it was previously broken in years passed.

"I heard you chatting up that techie for directions," he said.

"Yeah, the Marathon. What of it?" Stephan demanded, his brow slightly furrowing.

"Nothin', just that I know which 'roach leads to it." The stranger motioned for him to follow.

"So, you slated for the Marathon too?" the man asked. Stephan replied with a slight nod. "Same here. Name's Ian Vore, Private Second Class."

"Stephan Ogden, Second Lieutenant." Ian cast a brief look to his armor as they worked their way through the crowds.

"N7 eh?" he inquired. Stephan nodded once again.

"Yeah. Training was a bitch." Ian gave a small chuckle.

"I bet. I've heard stories from some of the guys comin' out of it. Sounds like a hell hole." The marines approached one of the many indistinguishable UT-47 Kodiak drop shuttles, casually strolling up the entry ramp into the cargo area.

"What training did you go through?" Stephan asked as the two sat down. Ian rubbed his jaw.

"Nothin' as tough as N7 training. Just some Covert Ops and sniper shit. Best shot in the class, though." Stephan gave a sharp whistle.

"Impressive."

"Not really." Ian told him modestly. "And if you don't mind, I'm gonna catch some z's. Didn't sleep that much this week." Stephan nodded understandably. He felt tired too, but the ride was only going to take about forty minutes, too short for a nap in his opinion. He looked around the cramped seating area. Besides him, there were about two other people in the shuttle. There was Ian, and a nerdy looking girl wearing glasses, her brunet hair tied into a bun.

Stephan sighed, attempting to enjoy the brief ride. He glanced out of the glass, gazing out upon the many ships of the Third and Fourth fleets. The large orange and white vessels were drifting in the emptiness of space, glistening in the starlight. The sight was breathtaking as Stephan found himself under the same spell as he once was years ago in his childhood. He could pick out several of the ships by name, the Third Fleets flagship, a dreadnought, the SSV Tai Shan, the cruiser SSV New York, and the Fourth Fleets flagship SSV Fuji.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" the woman asked him. Stephan was sucked out of his tranquil daydream. He turned toward her, who was sitting across from him.

"Uh, yeah, they are," he replied. "One of the main reasons why I joined the navy."

"Really? Why?" Stephan inhaled deeply before continuing.

"Well, I thought they were pretty cool as a kid. And I've always been interested in space-time technology." he explained. "Why'd you join?"

"My mother was a medic on the Cape Town, and she wanted me to follow in her footsteps..." She became quiet once more, her eyes gazing into complete nothingness, looking through him instead of at him. Stephan snapped his fingers.

"Oh... sorry... I do that sometimes." She said, giving a weak smile.

"What's your name?" He asked her, realizing he would have to eventually learn his crew mates' names.

"Alexus Richards," she said shyly, her voice particularly much smaller than previously.

"Nice to have your acquaintance Alexus, my name is Stephan Ogden." he told her, returning her smile from earlier.

"Are you... you wouldn't have any relation to the Admiral would you?" she inquired, her curiosity growing. She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I'm his son," he said simply. He didn't really care if his father was the commanding officer of an entire fleet, he expected no preferential treatment. Besides, he knew his dad was a fair man with no intention to do anybody undeserved favors. Alexus gave him a clever glare.

"I suppose that's why you're an N7 officer, isn't it?" It was an innocent enough question in and of itself, but Stephan could sense the venom hidden within it.

"The reason why I'm an officer is partially because of my father, I admit that. The reason why I'm an N7 operative is because I was one of the few cadets that proved they had the potential to become the best the Alliance can offer." he fired back. "We all have our parts to play, from the Fleet Admiral to the lowliest engineer, private, or even medic, we all have our parts to play. If we don't play those parts to the best of our abilities, then nobody is going to succeed in doing anything, and if you think the only reason I got here is because of my father then I'm not sure if I can trust you at my back, or even trust you at all." His voice slightly echoed across the shuttle. Stephan realized that his voice had been raising all the while he was talking. He had even woken Ian, who was staring at him intently. Stephan looked at Alexus, her light brown eyes beginning to water. Within them he saw the expected hurt and sadness, but what else he saw surprised him.

He saw a woman who on the outside showed nothing but unwavering courage and determination, unwilling to let others see her as anything but. Deeper though, he saw a young, frightened girl. Vulnerable, but again not so as she realizes that the galaxy is harsh and there is no place for weakness. He saw her blink back the tears, the facade that was momentarily shaken returned stronger than before. Her eyes sharpened and became cold, eyebrows furrowing deeply. Instead of hurt he now saw fury, a raw rage that manifested in his image that was staring right back at him as he took on a more discerned understanding.

"Believe me when I say that you don't have to worry about my abilities in pertaining to our duty. Just don't ask me anything more from me." she retorted, her words lined with an air of finality. Ian looked at the two people in the cabin for a brief moment of confusion, then drifted to sleep once more.

* * *

><p>The Kodiak drifted through the cold, empty space between the space station and the small frigate, its mass effect field propelling it toward its destination. As it approached the SSV Marathon, it began to slow until it finally crawled to a halt. The frigate's cargo bay opened, allowing the UT-47 entry. Corporal Mikael Rose grudgingly awaited the arrival of the newest crew recruits along with the ships commanding officer, Captain Isoroku Yamamoto. Mikael was of Native American and Irish decent, but only the Native side seemed to show. He was mostly Cherokee, and his visage reflected that. He was tall, his facial features regular and evenly placed. His forehead and brow were formed just so as to almost strike you instantly with heroism and bravery, and his eyes, thought rather small, was full of fire. His nose seemed to incline to the aquiline, like the shape of an eagles beak.<p>

He was not happy to standing beside his captain, and he did not bother to hide it. Why should he? To see these marines would only remind him of the friends they had come to replace. He knew it couldn't be helped, that men and women die in the service of their species everyday, but that didn't mean it didn't sting any less. The doors of the shuttle opened and extended into a small ramp, revealing the three that were to be his crew mates. He stepped forward.

"Welcome aboard," he greeted them coldly. "There are three decks to this ship, and the sleeping pods are on the second directly above this one. You can place what few personal belongings in the lockers on the third deck, which is this one, right over there next to the weapons armory. Your weapons and armor also belong here." He stepped back as Captain Yamamoto stepped forward in turn. Isoroku Yamamoto was pure Japanese, as his people continued to cling to the idea of a pure Japan. This was becoming more and more of a lie everyday though, he and his people knew it. But their cultural racism began forming into a light xenophobia against non-humans instead of non-Japanese. He was not short like the majority of his people, for he did not eat the traditional vegetarian diets of the East Asian countries. His skin was not the lightly toned variant of his ancestors, another sign of the continuing degradation of the Japanese. His hair was slightly graying, a showing of his coming age. He had "slanted" eyes, which were a deep hue of dark beige. He was wearing an Alliance officers uniform, two stripes on each shoulder signifying his high ranking.

"I would like to introduce you all to this fine ship," he began. "You are my crew, and will be respected as such, but in return, I demand the same respect. You may take this time to meet the rest of the crew, we will not be entering the mass effect relay for another twelve hours, as we will be getting an entire formal inspection, along with full resupply and restocking of the latest Alliance armaments. You are dismissed." The captain and his XO stepped through the group, forcing them to step aside as they entered the Kodiak. A few seconds later an electronic VI alert sounded.

"All personnel in the third deck cargo bay, airlocks are opening to hostile environment. All doors will be sealed until the re-pressurization of cargo bay. Use of hard-suits suggested." The three did a double take at each other. They then fumbled for their helmets as the alarm continued to sound. Stephan barely had his on as the room began to depressurize. He glanced at Ian and Alexus, relieved that they too had their helmets on. The oxygen swiftly left the room in a large force of wind, almost throwing him off his feet. The Kodiak lifted off, backing out of the small bay. The doors shut just as quick as they had opened, and the VI announced the all clear, opening the doors it had previously locked. Back on his feet, Stephan casually walked to one of the three empty lockers, which were left opened and unlocked. Coincidentally, they were also all right next to each other. Of course they are, he thought, we're replacing three dead marines who were a part of the ground team. He stripped himself of his armor and weapons, placing them all in the container's tight confines. The others did the same, until all they were wearing the Alliance standard crew uniforms. Immediately, almost as if on a cue, Alexus marched away from the group. Stephan didn't blame her.

"Way to make a first impression," Ian said with a sly grin. "Very smooth."

"Shut up," Stephan told him, disgusted by his earlier actions.

"Just saying." Ian shut his locker. Stephan followed suit, retrieving his pistol before shutting his.

"As your superior, I will tell you once again, shut up." Stephan threatened, though it was more of a joke than anything.

"Ooh, pulling rank are we?" Ian smirked.

"And if I am, who are you to stop me?" he retorted, smirking as well.

"All I'm sayin' is that you sure know how to get a great first impression."

"And all I'm sayin' is that you need to shut up." The argument spilled into the upper deck as they made their way toward the mess hall. Ian sat down, but Stephan moved toward the medical room next to it.

"I wouldn't do that," Ian prodded. Stephan raised his eyebrows, shaking his head while waving his hand over the door control. "I warned you," he said shaking his head slowly. "At least come out without ten needles in your neck."

Alexus was bent over checking the contents of a medical container, pulling things out only to place them back after she had found the true items she needed. She froze as soon as he entered the room, sensing his presence. As soon as she looked up, a scowl immediately formed on her face.

"What do you want?" She spat. This was going to be fun, he thought.

"To apologize," he explained. "It was unacceptable, my actions from before. It's just... I don't think you know how many people have thought or even said to my face that the only reason why I am what I am is because of my connections to my father. The only real thing he did for me was getting me into Officer Candidates School, and that was really unintentional because that only got me a recommendation through relativity. I still had to prove myself, or I wouldn't have graduated." He exhaled the large amount of air he had used to tell her this information in the rapid sequence he gave it. Alexus sighed, sitting down at the desk next to her.

"It's fine," Alexus sighed. Stephan could feel an aura of exhaustion emanating from her. She walked across the room to the empty desk, throwing herself at the chair. She had already let her hair down, long enough to barely touch her shoulders. "I'm not completely innocent either. I'm not going to make many friends if all I take into consideration is who they're connected to." She looked up from staring at the floor, and their eyes met.

"So, we're cool?" He asked after a moment. She blinked rapidly, apparently spaced out again.

"Yea, we're cool." He gave her a slight smile, a small thank you which she returned. He waved his hand over the panel again, exiting the room, joining Ian at the mess hall table.

* * *

><p>The automatic doors to the medical ward closed with a familiar whoosh, leaving Alexus alone in the empty room, her only company being the equipment and their various operation noises. She sat motionless, thinking, lost in thought once more. She felt her body wring itself free of the feel of time, its passing having no meaning nor effect on her. I wonder why he had to apologize? She thought to herself. He could have just avoided me, or cast angry glares from across a room. Why did he apologize?<p>

Alexus leaned back in her chair, letting out a large yawn. Maybe he was thinking about the crew, realizing that our assignments together could put the anybody on the ground team in jeopardy. She sat up in the chair, propping her chin up with her hands, elbows on the table. Maybe he was just being nice... She shook her head. No, nobody is just being nice nowadays. They people have to have something to gain in order for them to do anything, she knew that.

She glanced up at the clock sitting on the desk, reading 2137 hours.

"Damn, it's that late already?" She asked to particularly no one. She knew that it had been getting late on Arcturus, but she didn't realize that she had been sitting alone for two and a half hours. She stiffly stood up, stretching the entire way. Waving her hand over the control panel, she left the ward, entering the mess. Alexus retrieved her food from the automated ration dispenser, allowing the mushy substance to splatter on her tray.

"Well," she told herself. "Don't knock it 'til you try it..." She painstakingly ate the disgusting mush, mostly from the necessity of hunger than anything. By the time she was done, almost another hour had passed. The mess was completely empty save for her. She dumped her tray into the decontaminator before strolling toward the sleeper pods, which were vertical standing preservation and decontamination units for each individual crew member. It assured that they in the case of an emergency, the crew would be notified, and those who could not exit the pods would be kept alive to the machines best capabilities. It also made the use of showers obsolete, as they would save more time and space getting cleaned while sleeping.

Alexus opened one of the only few remaining pods, climbing into it at once. Her body lay at an angle, which took some weight off her feet. The pod closed, its glass surface tinted a dark black, blocking out all light. As her mind drifted, her thoughts once more drifted to the day's earlier activities. Eventually, she wound up thinking of the argument in the shuttle, but she couldn't seem to get her mind off of it like the other memories, and soon those memories incorporated themselves into a dream until she was no longer conscience, having finally drifted to sleep.


End file.
